Dollhouse
by nightlyroses
Summary: [Rewritten Songfic] The first night of Occlumency lessons with Alyssa Potter (fem!darkish!Harry) becomes a horror film that Severus Snape will always regret watching. Based on Melanie Martinez's "Dollhouse." NOT fem!Harry/Snape.


**AN:** So I decided I didn't really like the first "Dollhouse" songfic I wrote (it was too AUish and just so cliché to add a Malfoy daughter) and I just came up with this idea of making a twist on Occlumency lessons. Hope you enjoy!

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The two people down in the dungeons glared furiously at each other in equal hatred. The fifteen-year-old black-haired girl with green eyes gripped her wand tightly, itching to use it on the sour older man who stood before her. The man sneered. "I am about to perform Legilimency on you. Try to block it in any way possible, and please do not fail."

"With pleasure." The girl's voice was soaked with sarcasm and tinted with malice. A slight smirk spread over her face, causing the man to stiffen slightly. In a high-pitched baby voice she mocked, "Are you ready to play, professor?"

The man seethed at the wretch's impertinence. _"Legilimens!"_

He dove into her head. Shocker. The little brat was failing as always. He could see those pictures clear as day. Even so…he could hear that annoying voice echoing in his own head _Are you ready to play, professor?_ What was this? Time to play with dolls? Well, of all –

His train of thought was stopped by a memory. A rather disconcerting memory. A horse-like blonde woman was sprawled out on the sofa, clearly passed out. A large empty bottle of Muggle alcohol lay on its side on the floor beside her. A ten-year-old version of the memory's owner shook the woman's shoulder insistently. _Come on, Aunt Petunia! Wake up! Come on, will you? Uncle Vernon's with that slut again, and Dudley's smoking that awful stuff. What was it, cannabis? Please, Aunt Petunia! I swear, I didn't poison_ _you_ _this time; that was only once and I've learned that I shouldn't do that! Aunt Petunia! Get UP!_

A chill ran up his spine as a fat blond boy stumbled into the room, cackling as if he were high. _Forget it, freak! She's not going to listen to you. None of them will._ _They can't see behind this stupid perfect household!_

He stared as the girl clenched her fist as she swung at her cousin. She missed, and the boy laughed before running into the kitchen. Looking at her aunt and shaking her head, the girl went after him. The memory faded just as she shut the kitchen door behind her.

The man withdrew from her mind and shuddered. What the hell was going on in that household? Last time he checked, Petunia Evans was _obsessed_ with normal. Why were they so dysfunctional? What was wrong with them entirely? Composing himself he snapped, "That was completely terrible! Again!"

"What?! That was my first –"

" _Legilimens!"_

He jumped into her mind again with ease. Honestly, was the girl even trying? Oh great. Dear old Petunia. Just what sort of memory did this brat keep with this nasty woman? Wait.

He stared from behind as Petunia strode up the stairs. The distance never wavered. Clearly, the girl was following her aunt like the nosy person she was. Oh yes. There she was, just at the bottom of the memory frame. A glimmer of light caught his eye from higher up. Interesting. Petunia was rich enough to have jewellery. And nice jewellery at that. Who knew if her husband used that as a means of forgiveness for his infidelity. Well, it clearly didn't work.

He watched as Petunia threw open the door and tossed the jewellery onto the dresser. With a sob, the woman fell onto the bed and pulled something out from her pocket. A flask. She opened it and started downing it, still crying. _Vernon…_ she cried.

A loud knock came from upstairs. Petunia sniffled and swiped at her eyes angrily before getting up to go to her wardrobe. _Always some visitor…_

The view shifted and footsteps sounded as the ten-year-old girl stopped watching her aunt and ran downstairs to the kitchen. He pulled himself out immediately after catching a glimpse of the messy kitchen. "What is the meaning of this?! Are you even trying?! Answer me!"

She scowled up at him. "Go again. I dare you. Find out _more_ about the spoiled arrogant brat that is the spawn of James Potter."

Of all of the things! "You dare to speak to me like that? _Legilimens!_ "

The new scene he visited was filled with thudding sounds. The child and her relatives were in random places at once, scrambling from room to room. They were all in the process of dressing up for some formal occasion. The girl and her cousin looked a bit taller than the previous two memories, making them around twelve and presumably the summer of 1992. Yes there was a small healing cut from the encounter with Quirrell, the stuttering bastard.

A very fat man with red hair and no neck waddled out of his bedroom wearing a dinner jacket and a bowtie. _Hurry up! The Masons are going to be here soon! Dudley! Where's that camera?!_

 _It's here somewhere! Oh! Got it!_

The brat emerged from her room, looking sulky in her ridiculously pink dress. Even the man had to admit to himself that it was quite hideous. It was nearly as awful as Umbridge pink. She scowled at her uncle. _Why must I do this?_

Her uncle, for once, ignored her as he looked back and forth between his bedroom and his son's. The fat blond kid waddled out from his room dressed in a dinner jacket and bow tie that matched his father's (and looked even worse than the pink dress).

 _Where's Mum?_ The boy demanded.

The wretched woman in question strutted out from the room wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress. Merlin, what was up with this family and their taste in attire? At least, the expensive jewellery looked decent. Not good but decent.

 _Smiles, people!_ The fat man barked. _It is important that I seal this deal tonight! This party better not be ruined!_

The man watching rolled his eyes as the fat man looked specifically at the brat in the pink dress. Obviously, she was a major problem for this family. Though seeing the other issues from the other members made her seem a bit miniscule.

 _Dudley! Girl! Hook arms! Yes, like that! No, closer together. Yes! Show that you're a loving pair of siblings!_

 _But we're not siblings_ , the boy objected.

The girl muttered something like _thank God we're not_.

 _It doesn't matter!_ The fat man insisted. _It'll be a good impression on the Masons if they see us like a very close tight-knit family! That means treating freakish relatives like our own!_

The two cousins exchanged disgusted looks and inched away from each other as much as possible. Unfortunately, the fat man physically shoved them together and told them to smile. The boy plastered on a fake smile, but the girl gave a far more chilling one that said _I'm going to kill you in the most painful way possible when you're not expecting it._

The man watching this spectacle made to remove himself from her mind when a new image flashed before him. A dollhouse. A pristine pretty little dollhouse, exactly like the one Lily and Petunia used to play with as children. It was on the floor in what he thought was an attic. A shadow came over it. The wretched girl appeared, looking the same age as she was now. Her expression was malicious. In a soft voice she said, _We already have a little dollhouse here. And we're all the dolls. Dolls with deep dark secrets. Just wait until I get someone to play with. I think the old geezer Dumbledore might do. Or that awful Snape. But for now…_

He watched in horror and fascination as she brought her foot up and smashed it onto the house. The house collapsed into three sections with miniature pieces littering. She jumped and landed on one and brought her fists with the other two. The destruction began. He hitched a breath as she began chanting in a baby voice, _Dollhouse. D. O. L. L. H. O. U. S. E. Dollhouse. D. O. L. L. H. O. U. S. E._

Cackling laughter rang out from her, causing him to shake with fear. Who was this girl? Who was this – this monster? This demon?

When the house was completely demolished along with its items and occupants, she lay on the floor among the debris. Her hands were bleeding and so were her arms. Her stockings were torn and her shoes were dusty and worn. She looked tired yet satisfied. He stood there, watching. Then suddenly she sat up and looked right at him – as if she could see that he was watching this memory. In a quiet voice she said, _I see things that nobody else sees._

A single tear ran down from Alyssa Potter's right eye before Severus Snape yanked himself out from her mind of horror.

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 **AN 2:** Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks in advance to those of you who do!


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